Читать интересную книгу Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке - Гэрет Уильямс

Bester was swearing inwardly. He had known for a long time that Donne had certain…. sociopathic tendencies, but so long as only mundanes were harmed, what did it matter? Evidently, it mattered to some.

"Put me in contact with G'Kar so that I may form a…. useful alliance with him, and I will ensure Donne is not blamed. Otherwise…. well, under the Wartime Emergency Provisions she would be executed if found guilty, which I assure you there is more than enough evidence to manage. I just want to speak with G'Kar."

"I will have to pass your request on to G'Kar, Mr. Welles," Bester said smoothly. "I will contact you again."

"Do not take too long." The image faded and Bester walked away from the screen, muttering to himself. That was one offer he had been made recently. There had been another — ostensibly from Ambassador Sheridan, but originating from a far more powerful source. That source wanted G'Kar betrayed…. utterly.

He weighed up the possibilities in his mind, thinking over and over again of his people — the ones who trusted him and who relied on him…. who needed him. He thought of the woman he loved, the child they had together and the ones they hoped for later.

And after several hours, a plan began to shape itself in his mind.

* * *

Catherine Sakai groaned softly as consciousness returned to her. Everything around her was dark, pitch black. But there was a more metaphorical darkness engulfing her as well.

She had seen them kill Julie, shooting her in the back without a second thought. Security guards. People wearing the uniform of security guards.

She hadn't been over-paranoid. She had been, if anything, not paranoid enough.

She had run, even managing to escape from Julie's apartment, but some time later — it could have been hours even — wandering around helplessly, she had been hit from behind, and fallen….

And now she was awake.

Lights suddenly came on all around her, and she shut her eyes from the pain. She tried to raise her hands to shield her face, but they were fixed to the chair she was sitting in.

"Greetings, Miss Sakai," said a voice she knew. Polite, polished, urbane, civilised….

She looked in the direction of the voice and saw a face she knew as well. The face of a man who was believed to have died years ago at Orion 7.

"I suppose you would like to know what has been happening, hmm?" asked William Edgars.

Chapter 3

Once upon a time there was a man with a dream, a simple dream — to explore the stars, to learn from the wonders dead races had left behind, to discover the past and to build a better future. And then there came other men, with other dreams — dreams of money, and power, and riches.

And from these men there came a company called Interplanetary Expeditions, and then there came power, and money. The company grew strong and wealthy, and those who commanded it commanded power and influence elsewhere, even in government.

And then there came a race of aliens called the Minbari. Seeking revenge for a wrong, they erased and destroyed countless dreams, and for a time even those who sought to discover the past in the name of the future found their goals in doubt.

But then there came a saviour, who made them an offer — an offer which seemed so innocuous, which seemed to give so much and ask so little in return. A simple favour, to be paid back at a future date.

This is that future date, and the favour asked for is being repaid.

It is not much, really. One person, just one soul against the countless others balanced out before them.

One person whose life — and death — will change the galaxy.

* * *

Captain John Sheridan could not resist a smile as he looked at the hall of the main spaceport on Kazomi 7. As a sign of the triumph of hope over despair, of construction over destruction, there could hardly be a better symbol.

He remembered arriving here last year, as the colony was only just recovering from the horrors of the Drakh occupation. He remembered the devastation, the pitiful cries of the starving and the dying, the signs of despair and terror.

And now…. Kazomi 7 was the centre of an Alliance — a precarious one, to be sure, but an Alliance of Worlds nonetheless. There was hope in the eyes of those around him, eyes that were gazing at the future as if they had forgotten what it looked like.

"Impressive, isn't it?" he remarked to his companion. Commander Corwin nodded briefly. He had been distracted almost since they had left Babylon 4. Still, he was looking at the numerous customs officials and arrivals here, noting each of them almost abstractly.

A young man in a black robe came towards them, his hands folded into a steeple before him. Sheridan recognised him as the technomage Vejar, and nodded to him briefly. He nodded back. "We bid you welcome, Starkiller," he said, in a precise, immaculate tone, almost like someone who knows how to speak but has never actually tried it before.

"It's a pleasure to be here, Vejar. We have some of the mineral samples your government asked G'Kar for."

"Ah, yes. I am sure Minister Lethke or Minister Churok will be here soon to take delivery of them. I believe they are planning some sort of scientific experiment in our quantium refining plants."

Sheridan nodded. Quantium-40 was a vital element in jump gate construction. Minister Lethke seemed to think he might be able to build a plant here to refine the raw elements into pure quantium-40. If that was true, then it would be a real boost to the Alliance's economy.

Sheridan looked at Vejar closely. The technomage seemed to be studying him. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"You have been…. touched. Someone…. is lost in darkness. Someone close to you."

Sheridan started. "What…? What do you mean?"

"You are marked. By the future, and by the past. You are touched somehow, and you have seen things you should not have seen. You have pierced the barrier between times…. Where have you been recently?"

"Recently? Well…. on patrol…. Babylon Four mainly. Why? What is this about?"

Vejar shook his head. "Ah, I fear it is nothing. Merely…. nothing. Has anything strange happened to you? Any…. visions, dreams perhaps?"

"I always dream. Who doesn't these days? Nothing serious though."

"Of course. My…. apologies for bothering you, Captain. I remember now that you have been involved with Vorlons at various times. That could explain a great deal. Good day."

He started to leave, but Sheridan stopped him. "Wait! Do you…. know where Delenn is?"

"She will be here in a moment." He gently pulled himself free of Sheridan's grip and nodded his head, before turning and moving away. Sheridan shook his head, and then turned to look at his companion. Corwin shrugged.

At that point, the figure of Sheridan's beloved appeared at the door.

All thought of the confusing conversation with Vejar left him as he ran towards Delenn, calling out her name. Smiling, she stepped forward and let him engulf her in his arms, lifting her up into the air and kissing her lightly.

"I missed you," he whispered to her, over and over again. "I missed you."

"John," she said, still smiling. "We were only apart a week."

"So? I still missed you." He lowered her back to the ground, but did not let go of her. Nor she of him, he noticed.

"And I you. It seems that…. any time we spend apart now is…." She paused, trying to find a word. Sheridan brushed her hair with his fingers, feeling the beating of her heart against his chest. "Hard," she whispered at last.

"I know. Still, we have some time here at least…. before anything else blows up in our faces. Why don't I try cooking for you tonight? We can…."

"I…. have another idea," she said, smiling. "My people have…. rituals for when a couple become…. close. A courtship among my people can take many years, but the rituals are designed to ensure that the couple are right and true for each other before the relationship is…. consummated."

"I think it's a bit late for that," he whispered, and she blushed.

"No. I know…. we cannot have a full Minbari courtship, and I would not expect it from you, not even if…. we had the time. But still, some rituals we have already passed through…. without knowing. Others…. we cannot perform here. But there are some. I would like us to perform one tonight, just…. as a reminder of how things might have been, and may yet become."

"Hey, you're the boss. You sat through my cooking after all, so I suppose I owe you something in return. I'd love to, Delenn."

"Good." She smiled, and then reached up to him, her lips lightly brushing against his. "Tonight?"

"Mm-hmm."

* * *

"Greetings, Miss Sakai. I suppose you would like to know what's been happening, hmm?"

To call that an understatement would be an understatement itself, Catherine Sakai thought, and one of galactic proportions. Two people close to her had died tonight, and…. and…. she wasn't sure what she was going to do, but yes, she definitely did want to know what had been happening.

But first, she wanted to know why she was in the company of a man who was supposed to be long dead.

William Edgars smiled and nodded. "Yes, I can see that…. recent events might have been a…. burden, and I would like to apologise for that. Alas, it was necessary, I assure you. Nothing I do is ever without reason."

Something clicked. Catherine was not sure how to react to the insanity of this — the man who seemed to be confessing to ordering the deaths of her lover and her best friend was apologising for doing so! — but her instincts were not dying down. The phrasing, the syntax, the grammar….

"You're the one who questioned me earlier?" she asked. "You…. asked me about the G'Kar File."

"Ah yes, that was me. I apologise for the deception, but it was necessary again. That was too important to entrust to anyone else and I was afraid you might have recognised my voice…. it has been a long time of course, but not that long. So, the distortion was necessary. Unfortunately there are other aspects of speech which cannot be so easily hidden. Ah well…."

"But…." Catherine shook her head. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Dead? Me? Well, maybe. Again, another deception. I'd made far too many enemies and there was a need to work…. behind the scenes, so to speak. Oh, I'm sorry. What am I thinking of?" He pressed a button on his desk and the restraints around Catherine's wrists slid open. She rose to her feet awkwardly. "Coffee? It's the real stuff, I assure you. Or perhaps orange juice? I do have some left here, you know. I used to love drinking orange juice as a child. Freshly squeezed, without any of the additives, preservatives, and bits and pieces we introduce to make our lives more bearable. No, sometimes I think nature was right in the beginning. Our lives are just too complicated now. Perhaps we should be thanking the Minbari for one thing. Whatever else we think of them, they have brought us back to the basics. Food, drink, shelter, survival…. What more do we truly need?"

"I don't know…. friendship, love, some kind of purpose?"

"Ah…. yes, perhaps. A romantic, then?"

"No. I just…. think there must be more than just survival. There's what we need to live, and there's why we want to live."

He nodded. "A…. wise attitude, and one returning to popularity, I believe. Oh, the coffee?" Catherine shook her head. She couldn't face anything at the moment.

"Now, I'm sure you have a number of questions, and this is…. for your benefit after all, so if you ask the questions, I'll attempt to answer them, to the best of my ability. Then we can sort out why you're here."

Questions. Yes. Answers…. yes, she wanted these too. Or did she?

"Why did you kill Dan?" she whispered. "And Julie? You…. were behind that?"

"Ah…. yes. Indirectly, I suppose. Mr. Randall was a…. complication who needed to be removed. Miss Musante was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mr. Morden assures me that her shooting was an unfortunate accident."

"An accident? You killed my best friend by accident?! And Dan, he was…. what? A complication? How can you talk about human lives that way? Don't they mean anything to you?"

"More than you'll ever know. But…. I see we'll have to do this another way. Care for a seat?" Catherine looked at the chair behind her suspiciously. "Oh no, not that one. There's one over here."

"I'd rather stand, thank you."

"As you wish. To begin…. well, at the beginning, I suppose, as a great man once said. Just after the war…."

* * *

Darkness was falling slowly over Kazomi 7. Valen — Jeffrey Sinclair — both — either — was standing on a balcony of the main building, watching thin tendrils of red light gradually retreating. He sighed, and was suddenly aware of a movement behind him.

"I'm sorry," said a not-unfamiliar voice. "I didn't realise…. I'll go…."

Valen turned, to see a human. It was one of those who had been present at the Rebirth Ceremony, the companion of Captain Sheridan. "No," he said softly. "Stay."

The human shrugged and stepped forward. He looked out over the horizon silently for a few minutes, lost in thought.

Valen studied him, and immediately found thousand-year-old memories rising to the forefront of his mind. This soldier…. Commander…. Corwin, that was it. He reminded him of many who had served under him…. before. Brave soldiers, noble warriors, good people, but…. always frustrated by how little they could serve, annoyed that their talents could only raise them so far. Each had reacted in different ways to this — some had sought to improve their talents and skills so that they could do all they desired; some had sunk into depression, into darkness, content with what they had when they could have had far more; and some…. some had let their own weaknesses twist and corrupt them, until they lost everything of what they had been…. like Marrain.

"I like it here," he said finally. "The city is full of such hope, a rebuilding from chaos and disaster, a look to the future."

"It's a place where millions died," replied Corwin. "I was here after the Drakh left, and there was no hope here then. Just people starving, and bleeding to death, and screaming from nightmares that never ended."

"And look at them now."

He snorted. "They're like children who are glad that their parents have stopped arguing, and afraid they'll start up again any time now. I'm looking, but I can't see…. anything."

"Why so pessimistic? You're sounding like…." He hesitated. Like Parlonn, who had looked out at the world and seen only darkness and despair. No matter how many times light was shown to him, he preferred to believe in the darkness. At the end, he had forgotten why he had ever been fighting.

"We bombed your world. We did. People just like me. We threw rocks from the sky, we poisoned your water and your ground, we brought so much death…. People like me. People who went back to Proxima after the battle, and went to wives and husbands, went to their family. 'And what did you do at work, today, darling?' 'I killed millions of people and destroyed an ancient civilisation. How about you?'" He laughed ironically, but it ended on a false note.